


The Argument

by khd14



Series: Peyton + Richard [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Richard Armitage - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Birthday, Character Development, Developing Relationship, F/M, Mild Language, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khd14/pseuds/khd14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://s1064.photobucket.com/user/khdent/media/PicMonkeyCollage2_zps97752d72.jpg.html"><img/></a>
</p><p>Peyton and Richard may be in London, but that doesn't mean they've had a happy ending. </p>
            </blockquote>





	The Argument

**Author's Note:**

> This is set about a week after Peyton and Richard arrive in London. Enjoy.

**||August 26||**

Peyton slammed the door to the pantry shut and turned around with a heavy sigh.

"What is it now, Peyton?" Richard laid the news paper down onto the dining room table, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I just want some dill pickles." She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned up against the kitchen counter, dropping her gaze to the hardwood floor beneath her feet. _Honestly, all she wanted was some crunchy dill pickles..._

"I know you do, but you are fully aware that we do not have any.” He brought the paper back up to his gaze, a sigh escaping his lips exasperatedly.

“Yes, yes,” She rolled her eyes and mimicked his tone. “I’m fully aware that we don’t have any.”

“Peyton,” Richard brought the paper back to the table. “What is wrong with you today?”

She shook her head slowly as her eyes began filling with tears. _And he still can’t remember my birthday?_

“What, are you going to cry again? Jesus, Peyton,” He leaned back in his chair, drawing his right hand to his chin, where he gripped it tightly.

She shrugged her shoulders lightly, wondering how he could forget this day. Any other day, it didn’t matter… but today. She slid her iPhone from the back pocket of her jeans, silently praying there would be a text, a message… anything.

“It’s my birthday,” She muttered with a sigh, unlocking her phone with her shaking fingertips.

Richard dropped his head into his hands, a heavy sigh produced from his lungs. _Her birthday. He forgot her birthday._ “Peyton,”

She shook her head, her lips pursed tightly. “Don’t worry about it, Richard. Thirty isn’t worth celebrating, anyways.”

The desperate urge to type in Parker’s phone number was heavy on her heart. It was their birthday - the twins, now 30. Except… she was dead. Well, supposed to be dead…

Richard brought his gaze to the phone in her hands, and immediately, he knew what was going on through her mind. “Peyton,”

She shook her head again, the hot, salty tears spilling from her eyes.

“Peyton,” His voice was more commanding this time, persistent on listening to him intently. She closed her eyes and dropped her head. “Peyton, give me the phone.”

Peyton took a deep breath as she held the phone tightly in her hands. _Just to talk to him. Just to know that he’s okay…_

“Peyton. The phone. Now.”

She looked up at him, the tears now pouring out of her eyes. Now she can’t be trusted with a phone? In a rush, she threw the phone at him, where it crashed onto the dining room wall behind him. “There. There’s your phone. Are you happy now?”

Richard stood up from the chair slowly, laying his hands on the thick oak table. His gaze remained intent on the table, as he couldn’t even think of the right words to say. _I’m sorry. Forgive me. What do you need. Happy Birthday. I know you want to call him, but you can’t. He’s okay, I promise._

“Don’t you understand, Richard? I have no family, I have NO ONE! It’s my birthday, and I have no one who cared to remember?”

_Happy Birthday, love. What do you want to do? We’ll do anything you want to do, I promise._

He shook his head fervently, closing his eyes for just a moment. “You have me, Peyton, why must you keep forgetting that?”

The tears continued to sting her reddened cheeks tirelessly. “You don’t,”

_No, Peyton, you’re absolutely right. I don’t understand._

He slammed his fist onto the table. “Stop saying I don’t understand! My father is dead; my mother lives in Mexico; my brother, his wife, his son live in Leeds. You forget that I’m alone in this city as well!”

“But you’re not!” She pushed the knot in her throat out of her way, her voice growing heavier and louder with each word. “I can’t call my father; I can’t call my twin brother; I can’t call my mother. I don’t exist to them, because I’m not alive! You can speak to your family at any fucking time you want; and if I do, I’ve blown the entire operation.”

_You’re right, Peyton. I can speak to my family and you can’t. I’m sorry._

“I told you this wasn’t going to be easy.” He pointed his index finger at her strictly, his eyes growing heavy. “And I’m beginning to think you can’t handle it.”

She dropped to her knees as her sobs overtook her body completely; her heart dropped into her chest viciously. And for once, he didn’t come over and drape his arm around her, tell her that everything was going to be okay, that they would work through it. Together.

_I’m so in love with you, Peyton Morrow, and I’ll do anything in this world to prove it to you. I’m sorry. How can I help you with this?_

Instead, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest and shook his head firmly. “I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

Her hands fell to the floor underneath her, her fingertips digging into the hardwood. “Then leave.” Her eyes remained shut, her emotional state not being able to bear watching him leave her. One more person to leave from her life, something she was used to.

_No. I won’t leave you here like this. I can’t._

“Peyton,” He gripped the back of the barstool tightly. “Just. Go.” Her voice managed to find presence over the sobs, and it was so powerful and so loud that it startled him.

He slammed the barstool into the table, turning his back on her, attempting to find the patience and understanding for him to stay and help her through this. Finally, he headed out of the dining room and grabbed his backpack from the couch. Once he put his hand on the doorknob, he took one long look back at her, crumpled and sobbing on the floor. No, he didn’t want to leave her like this, but what else was he supposed to do?

*****

**||August 27||**

Peyton awoke with a start, memories of their fight still plaguing her thoughts with a vengeance. She peeled the cotton sheet away from her torso and swung her legs towards the side of the bed, planting her feet firmly on the smooth, cool, hardwood floor. She closed her eyes tightly, attempting to drown out the whispered voices that tormented every fiber of her being.

The rumbling in her stomach reminded her that the time to eat had passed, and even though that was the last thing she wanted to do, she knew she had to. She made her way into the kitchen slowly, where she made a cup of tea and dug through the pantry and fridge to find something palatable for after eleven in the morning.

While setting her cup of tea and a small plate down on the dining room table, she noticed a package sitting across from her. She stared at it while she ate, debating on whether or not she wanted to open it, or if she should’ve just thrown it off the roof. She wasn’t interested in sympathy gifts this morning.

Her attention was brought to the crystal vase in the middle of table and she sighed, the wilting white roses begging for their demise. She grabbed the vase in a rush of anger and set it by the sink, her mothers voice radiating in her head.

_“Every beautiful woman needs a beautiful vase,”_

Quickly, she threw the old flowers into the garbage and washed out the vase. It wasn’t like there were going to be anything in there for awhile, but for some reason, cleaning always seemed to calm her like nothing else.

As she leaned up against the sink, she began to think about her family, and how they were gathered around the table for a post-birthday breakfast, a tradition that never seemed to go away from when they were children. She shook the thoughts from her head and headed back over to the dining room table to grab her breakfast dishes and get those washed and put away before it drove her crazy to see them sitting helplessly in the sink.

The plain, brown paper wrapped package sitting on the table kept stealing her attention all afternoon, and finally, she decided to open it. Any package was a good package, right?

She lifted the lid, revealing a small iPhone box, a note beneath it, and then a worn, leather journal - or book? - on the bottom. She took the iPhone box and smiled softly. She knew she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did, but really, who would have blamed her? She went ahead and took the new phone out of the box and turned it on, knowing it definitely needed to be charged before she began to even think about using it.

The scribbly, block handwritten note stared up at her, and immediately, she took it in her hands.

_Peyton - I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve gone through, and although I’ve been trained for these situations, it’s hard for me to remember that you haven’t, so I’m sorry. I’ve had this journal for a very long time, and although I know that once you read it you’ll never be able to forget it, I don’t care. This is me - This is how I survive - This is how I feel. I love you, Peyton, and I want you to see why._

She picked up the soft leather journal and took it in her hands, skimming through the worn pages, littered with notes, entries, thoughts, quotes. She stuck the note in the very front of the journal and carried it with her to the bedroom, where she curled up in their bed and began to read from the very beginning, “november 2013”.

*****

**||August 27||**

Richard sunk into his office chair slowly, covering his eyes with his right hand. “I forgot that it was her birthday,”

Leslie and Landon groaned. “Oh, Richard, please say that you didn’t.”

“And then I yelled at her, told her she couldn’t handle it, then left after she told me to go.”

Leslie stood up off the couch in Richard’s office quickly. “And then you left her! What were you thinking, Richard?!”

He sighed heavily. “I had all these perfect things to say in my head,” He shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Leslie continued to shake her head at him, her right index finger pointed at him directly. “Your own birthday was four days ago, Richard. Do you remember what she did for you? She was so thoughtful and just wanted you to have a good day.”

Richard leaned his head back onto the leather chair and groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Yes, I remember.”

_God, she was always so thoughtful._

Landon took ahold of Leslie’s forearm and lead her back to the couch. “So what are you going to do now?"

“I bought her a new phone and dropped it off early this morning.”

“So you think buying her a new phone is going to make her forgive you?” Leslie rolled her eyes.

“She threw her phone at me last night, it shattered into about a million pieces, so she needed a new one.” He shrugged lightly, opening his bloodshot eyes.

“Well,” Leslie scoffed, leaning back into the leather couch. “She should’ve hit you with it.”

“She tried,” He chuckled. “I also gave her something to read.” His eyes met Landon’s.

“Something to read?” Landon repeated, raising his eyebrows. “Really?”

Richard nodded. “Yes.”

“Something to read? What are you talking about?”

Richard turned and looked over at Leslie. “Yes. Something to read. My thoughts.” His index finger tapped his temple softly.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You have a journal!”

A light blush grew onto his cheeks.

“You, mister ‘I’m so badass and kill people and take on dangerous missions’... writes in a journal?” Leslie chuckled. “Wow. I never would have guessed it.”

Landon laid a hand on her shoulder gently. “Let her read it, give her some time to process everything that’s in there. Something will come to you in the mean time, for you to do for her, I mean.”

Richard nodded slowly. “Yeah, alright, if you say so,”

“She’s going to want to be alone for that.” Leslie gave him an encouraging smile, nodding her head towards him. “Trust me.”

*****

**||August 28||**

Two days had gone by before Peyton finally felt somewhat secure in her emotions. She was sad, she was hurt, she was upset, she was confused; but that was to be expected. She did feel closer to Richard after reading his journal, and although some of his thoughts were quite personal, she was glad that he trusted her enough with this information.

He didn’t call, and not because he didn’t wish to speak with her, to tell her that he loves her and cares for her; but because he knew she needed space. She needed to be alone, to think peacefully, to live freely. To read his thoughts and comprehend them appropriately, without him being a distraction to her mind.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to do. She was right, he didn’t understand what she was going through and he would do anything to change that. He didn’t want to see her go through this alone, but maybe that’s what she needed; to navigate this part of her life without him by her side. He was used to protecting people at all cost, and now that he was trying to do the opposite, every bone in his body was telling him that it wasn’t right.

Peyton heard the lock on the front door retract and she brushed a tear from her cheek; she knew that he was completely exhausted of her crying by now. She took the worn leather journal from her lap and opened it carefully, her eyes scanning the pages of his thick, block handwriting for any sign of his departure, although she knew there was none.

Richard sat the brown paper bag and bouquet of flowers down on the countertop with a heavy sigh. All he wanted to do was enjoy a night of good food, a relaxing shower, and a peaceful nights slumber in their bed with Peyton next to him.

The empty glass vase stared at him from across the room and immediately, he walked towards the dining room to retrieve the thick crystal. He turned it over in his hands and shook his head fervently - _he handled this all too wrong_.

With a heavy heart, he arranged the newly bought flowers into the vase and filled it with water, watching as the colorful bouquet came to life. He left it by the sink as he made his way towards the master suite, his boots echoing off the still bare walls. He leaned up against the doorframe as he watched her, curled up in an overstuffed chair by the window, her eyes scanning the pages of his journal he gave her just a few days ago.

“Peyton,” His voice startled her, and he smiled softly at her reaction. “I handled this all too wrong.” He made his way to her slowly.

She held her breath as he crossed the room, the urge to run and jump into his arms was heavy; yet her heart continued to hold her back. She sat the journal onto the small table next to the chair, already covered with books and electronic devices. She didn’t speak, but nodded at his statement, acknowledging that yes, both of them handled this situation without thinking about the consequences.

“I pushed you. They pushed you,” He scoffed as he sat on the tufted ottoman across from her. “And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen. As much as I’ve been trying to protect you from all this, I’ve realized that I can’t.”

“Richard, you still don’t get it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I feel like a fraud, like I’m living someone else’s life because Peyton Morrow is dead, and I’m supposed to just forget my old life? My family? How do I even begin to pretend like it never happened?” She took his hands in hers and clasped them tightly. “It’s not something that you’re not doing right, because you’re doing everything humanly possibly for me. It’s something that I don’t know how to process, and I’m,”

“You feel like you’re torn between two lives?” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. “Would it be easier if I stopped calling you Peyton?”

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “I’m terrified that I’m no longer going to be able to remember Peyton Morrow,”

“Oh, love; I won’t let you.”

She tilted her head towards her shoulder and closed her eyes tightly, taking in a deep breath. “Thank you for leaving. Even though it was my birthday, and you forgot…” She muttered, clasping his hands tightly in hers.

“I’m sorry, Peyton.” His deep baritone voice began to crack under the pressure.

She looked up at him and smiled softly. “I know. And you’ll find a way to make it up to me, I know you will.” She turned towards the table and took his journal into her hand. “You are a complex individual, Armitage. And although I don’t always understand your reasoning, I’ll try not to continue to question every decision that you make. Because I know that it’s for the best.”

He took the journal from his hands and laid it beside him on the ottoman. “No, Peyton. You were not in the wrong here,”

“Yes, I am, Richard. I keep placing the blame on you because you were the one who got me out of there. I don’t do it willingly, I just,” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “You’re right. I wasn’t in the wrong, but I wasn’t being fair to you either. I don’t always see the things I need to see, you know that. But at least I think about you, and I think about our relationship and what we have.” She dropped her gaze to their remaining entwined hand. “And I feel as if all you think about is my safety and sex, which isn’t fair.”

Richard nodded his head as he took in her thoughts, understanding where she was coming from completely. He wasn’t paying attention to her (non sexual) needs, which is a basis for any relationship. He failed to realize that he was becoming more of a physical being rather than an emotional being, which is what she needed.

Not just what she needs, but what their relationship needs. Focusing on each other and their relationship - making it stronger; connecting with her on a level neither one had experienced; dealing with problems together rather than separately.

“And again, you’re right. It’s not fair to you. But you have to remember, I’m not here to hurt you, Peyton. I don’t want you to feel as if you cannot open up to me just because I don’t understand. And honestly, there’s not very many people alive in this world who would be able to understand what you’re going through. And trust me when I say this, I may not understand, but I’ll do my damndest to make sure that you’re getting what you need to maintain your sanity. I’ll do anything for you, do you understand that? Whether it’s holding your hand while you go to therapy or crying while we celebrate your birthday or, God, I don’t know, kill people who get in my way of keeping you safe. I’ll gladly do it all over again.”

Richard cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips softly. “I’m not perfect, in fact, I’m far from it. But you, Peyton. I’ve never thought I would ever meet someone as perfect for me as you are.”

Peyton sighed heavily, a soft smile tugged on the corner of her lips. “We have a lot of work to do, my dear.”

*****

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for your continued support! Feel free to leave any questions/comments/concerns for me; I appreciate all of your thoughts! 


End file.
